


Wa’ar (Original Work)

by LittleBluejay_SingingSongs



Series: The Banker [2]
Category: Aliens - Fandom, Original Work, Science Fiction - Fandom, Space Travel - Fandom, The Banker - Fandom, immortal - Fandom
Genre: Betrayal, F/M, Love, M/M, Non consenting injections, Rocket launch, Synergistic mind meld, Telepathy, out of body experience, space travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-08-20 02:35:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20220379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleBluejay_SingingSongs/pseuds/LittleBluejay_SingingSongs
Summary: This prequel to Ianto and the Banker explains how the immortal telepathic people came to be on Earth. 🗺 The people from Wa’ar’s Planet 🪐 have no social stigma about skin or hair color, instead it is all about the length of a man’s hair and the styling of the women’s hair and one’s job and telepathic ability.Also, their planet 🪐 never had a comet ☄️wipe out the dinosaur’s 🦕 65 million years ago, as Earth 🌎 did, so, yeah. There is that. They live inside or underground. Where it is safe from pterodactyl’s and T-Rex’es.🦖Wa’ar, a telepath from birth, is raised by his father 👨👦 and grows up wanting to be in the space program. 🚀When he takes a solo trip 👨🚀 🛸and lands on Earth, 🌍 the people who rescue him, can’t get his name right 🤷🏿♂️ and call him Warren. 🤦🏼♂️So? What happened on that very long trip that changed him and the embryos 🥚 he brought with him, so that they stopped growing older at adulthood and didn’t die of old age?A sweet story 💐





	1. Wa’ar’s tenth birthday celebration.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wa’ar and his father Wharf travel to a hotel to view a spaceship launching.

Wa’ar awoke happy. Today was the day he was taking a trip, with his dad! They were celebrating his tenth birthday by going to the space center and watching a rocket take off! And his mom might come, too!

His bed was sunken about a hands depth in the middle, making a nest for him to cuddle inside. He was still too young and short to use the pillow. He squirmed around, stretching, in his nest, with his thick puffy blanket tented over him, enjoying the feeling on his skin. He was positive that this was going to be the best birthday ever! 

Getting up, he neatened the blanket over the bed. Then looked at himself in the mirror and decided he must shave! He wanted to look good for his mother. Carefully he ran the razor over his head to remove all traces of hair. Taking off his pj’s, he lowered the toilet down from the wall and sat straddling it, facing the wall, waiting for the seal to take. Humming a tune, he went to the bathroom. When he was done he turned on the stream of water to rinse. Things were changing down there. He found himself getting up in the morning and looking forward to going to the bathroom. He let the water run longer than he needed then, turned on the suction to draw all the water off of his skin. He broke the seal and got up.

Removing his most beautiful skirt from a drawer, he watched the deep red color flash purple in the light. Eight different colors of stitching went around the hem and up the front panel. The pattern of his family crest was elaborate. Holding the pleated back and sides, and pulling the right side over to his left hip, he fastened it. Then he pulled the left panel of the wraparound skirt to his right hip and fastened it, ‘cus that’s what children do’. Striking a pose with his left foot out in front and his arms crossed he smiled at himself in the mirror. He looked good.

Running past his father’s room he didn’t bother to look in, knowing he would not be there. He passed the Cook and Maid’s rooms and ignored them also. His father was in the viewing room seated at the narrow table along the front of the curved glass wall. Wa’ar greeted his father with a hug. Wharf turned and smiled, and greeted his only child. They used telepathy in this household for all conversations. Maid brought in their breakfast. Wa’ar greeted him, and went back to looking out the window.

The building gracefully curved inward on the left. Sunlight reflected off the apartment’s curved glass windows. Since the walls were staggered from the floor above and below them, the light looked like rows of stairways, that became skinnier the farther away they were. In the green forest below a large bird’s nest perched in a treetop. “It looks like the birds have eggs now. I see two of them.”

“That’s nice. Wa’ar. Eat, please. We don’t want to be late.” 

“Yes, Father. Trains wait for nobody.”

“That’s right.” Wa’ar moved his plate to the other side of the table, and sat snug up against his dad. Then he happily ate. He’d noticed his dad was wearing a matching skirt. While his skirt went to his knees, Wharf’s skirt went down to the middle of his thighs. Wa’ar watched his dad’s skirt flash from black to indigo blue in the light. All the stitching was the family crest in gold.

Before Wharf finished eating, he wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulders. When they were done, they went across the hall. Wa’ar placed their dishes and glasses onto the metal wire trays inside the dishwasher. Which stood on the counter. After he added the silverware and shut the roll top cover, he turned on the steam with a loud whoosh sound. He and his father went to the kitchen door and bowed, “Thank you for taking care of us.”

Cook and Maid waited a beat before they turned toward Wharf and Wa’ar. It was an old tradition, showing that they were actively working for their employer. Together they bowed and replied, “Thank you for letting us live with you.” Wa’ar and his father straightened up. Cook smiled, because females always do. Maid didn’t, because males don’t. Wharf and Wa’ar did not smile back.

Wa’ar noticed the men’s legs and couldn’t wait to wear a short skirt. Cook being a woman, wore a very form fitting dress that flared at her hips and was held together with little ties. White at the shoulders the dress gradually turned a deep blue at the bottom. It had no stitching, because she was a cook. Maid’s skirt was in the same blue color as Cook’s, but his had stitching that matched Wharf and Wa’ar’s skirts. If anyone knew the pattern they would know at a glance he worked for the Wa family.

Maid fixed his father’s hair. Removing the nighttime snood, he carefully combed it very straight down. Several inches from the bottom he curved in the sides, leaving most of the hair to stay as long as possible until the tie. Which on Wharf was near his waist. The tie was expensive, with a pattern in blue and gold on white. A few inches under the tie Maid carefully trimmed the ‘bob’, making it look like a dandelion just opened. The tie’s ends hung down almost to the bottom of his skirt. Allowing Wharf to reach around and use the ends of the tie to move his hair out of the way when he sat.

Meanwhile, Wa’ar opened the lid of the dish washer, releasing the hot wet air. He used a pad to remove the now dry and hot dishes and placed them on the racks in cook’s area and added the silverware to the tray set into the counter. Returning to his room, he cleaned his teeth, grabbed his computer and placed it into the ToGo box on the counter. Then going past the greenhouse he took a basket of fruit, Maid had assembled earlier in the morning. Next to the door, he put on his shoes and waited.

His father joined him. He put on his shoes. They turned back towards the Maid and Cook’s direction. Father and son bowed and waited. Cook and Maid both came out and bowed.

Wa’ar and Wharf both said, “Thank you for being here.” 

“Safe travels.” They watched the father and son leave. They liked working for Wharf. They liked that he was even tempered and had a close and affectionate relationship with his son. And now that they were gone, Wharf had given them the freedom to do as they wished. They chose to give the place a ‘deep’ clean and then visit Cook’s parents. Cook and Maid were not married. 

  
Down the hallway the father and son walked hand in hand. Reaching the elevators, Wharf placed his left hand on the scanner and a door unlocked. He had changed all the scanners over to reading his left hand, that way he didn’t have to let go of Wa’ar’s hand. They entered their private elevator. It was small and made to hold two people. Wa’ar kept a hand around his dad’s waist and under his hair, as he watched his father operate the pulley. Wharf asked Cook and Maid every year, if they would also like a private elevator. They always declined. They preferred to use the public elevators. 

They exited underground, at the train level. Wharf swiped the scanner and it locked. People waited in two neat queues in the train’s vestibule. They joined the throng heading for the queues.

The people were quiet and orderly. Adults were of the exact same height. Which was normal, they even wore the same shoe sizes. Men’s skirts were the same length, yet each had a different pattern of stitching at the hem and on the front. All the women’s dresses had stitching on the bodice. The unmarried women had stitching that extended down the back of their dresses in a long skinny triangle. Some women’s dresses had no ties, because they had maids to sew their dresses closed.

Wa’ar was acutely aware that his skirt was longer than the men’s and shorter than the women’s dresses, and he of course, had no hair. The women cut their hair short at the jaw line. Wa’ar liked the women’s round puffy balls of hair, each in a slightly different cut and color. Wa’ar liked the woman who had dyed her hair in skinny vertical stripes of pink and white. The man with her had his hair in a matching pink. All the men grew their hair as long as they could and tied it neatly at the bottom.

A couple passed them, in the slow moving line. They both wore their hair the same color as the man’s skin. When Wa’ar realized the man’s hair was short, just barely to his shoulders, he blushed in embarrassment. Tiny clumps of the man’s hair were tied to ribbons the same color as his skin. Near his waist the ribbons were tied into an elaborate woven knot with a bright green bow at the bottom. Wa’ar thought the wife was great for supporting her husband by wearing her hair the same color as her husband. The wife gave Wa’ar the tiniest glance, as she and her husband passed them again. She smiled. He carefully did not. She turned back to the front. She knew his thoughts! He forgot to shield his thoughts! What a mistake, and he quickly did so. He looked at the people around them. All the women wore smiles. Chagrined at being such a child, he did his best to adopt the men’s expressions. Meaning no expression.

They waited patiently in their assigned spot in the line, third on the left. Wa’ar saw another child, also bald and in a skirt down to their knees. They nodded to each other. He wondered if they were a boy or a girl. He ignored the child’s father, who ignored him. Another child was being held between two men’s chests, with their head and hand resting against one of the men’s shoulder. All three wore the same pattern. The child lifted a finger and waved hi. Wa’ar wiggled his fingers in reply.

The train arrived. The doors opened. Everyone filed in. Those on the left turned left. Those on the right turned right. Inside, the hallway was wide enough for one person. The left wall curved away from them, because the train was one big tube shaped vehicle. In front of the second to last door, Wharf placed his hand on the scanner. The scanner plate read: Welcome Wharf and Wa’ar. Happy Birthday Wa’ar! At the bottom it gave the date, Wharf’s account number and cost of the room. The door opened and they entered. Wa’ar swiped a finger on the inside scanner to shut the door. They sat on the bottom bed, as the train began to move. The upper bed was off set from the bottom bunk by half it’s width. They looked at each other. The train made several more stops before it hit cruising speed.

“That was the last stop. Until we arrive.” Stated Wharf. 

Wa’ar pulled down a shelf and placed his fruit on it. 

“Thank you for bringing the fruit.” 

“You’re welcome, Father.”

“I sleep on the bottom and these are steps for you to reach the upper bed.” He pointed to the wall. Wa’ar rolled his eyes. Parents! Then Wharf stood up and picked up Wa’ar and had him stand on the bottom bed. He gave him a hug. The hug went on for some time and ended with a kiss on the forehead. “We have all day before we arrive. What would you like to do?” 

They kept their arms around one another as they talked. Wa’ar looked over his father’s shoulder and said, “I think I need to practice for my classes.”

“You start a new grade.” He understood his son’s worries.

“Yes, Father.”

“Is this the one with girls?” 

“Yes, Father. It’s hard to tell how many will be female. Since we all still have no hair.” Wa’ar ran his hand down his father’s silky hair. “One day they wear a skirt and then, they are wearing a dress.” He kissed Wharf. 

With a hint of a smile his father asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Well. I haven’t practiced talking in a long time.”

Out loud Wharf asked, “Aloud?”

Wa’ar started at hearing his father’s voice for the first time in five or six years, “Yes, Father.”

Wharf continued to speak aloud, “Then we shall speak out loud for the rest of the trip.”

Wa’ar broke into a big grin, then realized he had smiled and carefully composed himself. Aloud Wa’ar replied, “Thank you, Father.” 

“You are welcome, Wa’ar.” Wa’ar smiled and stopped smiling again.

“When we were waiting for the train I forgot to shield my thoughts.” 

Holding his son close he replied, “I didn’t notice.” Wa’ar was relieved and knew his father was telling a fib. He laid his head on his father’s shoulder.

________________________

The trip was all day and into the night. They ate the fruit. His father kissed the juice that was about to drip off Wa’ar’s chin. They slept. They woke when the window set in the curved right wall went clear. Wa’ar laid on his bed and watched as the strange houses and buildings, and sometimes a forest went by. He looked for animals. Both excited to see one and afraid to see one. He didn’t see one.

He looked over the edge of his bed, “Hi.” 

“Hi, Wa’ar. Do you want to play a game?”

“Yes.” A game with my father! Of course I do.

“I say something and you repeat what I said. Exactly. You can go slower, but if you make a mistake then I get a point. Then we switch and you say a sentence and I repeat what you said.” Wa’ar nodded.

Wharf said, “We are in a TRAIN.”

Wa’ar said, “We ARE in a train.”

After many sentences Wa’ar got a little tired. Wharf looked out the window for a bit and said casually, “It is your birthday next week.”

Wa’ar said, “Yes. It is Father.” Wharf had a tiny smile. “Ah!” They both laughed at his mistake. Wa’ar thought it over. “How do I do that one?”

”Make it a question.” Wa’ar loved his father.

It was the perfect game for Wa’ar to play. He practiced speaking and laughed at his mistakes. And so did his father. He loved him. He rolled off the top bunk and Wharf caught him and tickled him. 

They arrived late at night. They retraced a similar route as at the beginning of their trip, and ended up in a ‘holiday’ room. Two beds, side by side, faced the window. Each with a puffy cover. Wa’ar didn’t know which to explore first, the greenhouse or the balcony. He had a greenhouse at home. He went to the balcony. His father followed.

Off to the left was a huge mountain. Down it’s side was a slide. Lit with lights, that appeared little, it ended in a giant curve upwards at the end. Perched at the top hung a rocket. It’s top pointed downwards. The rocket’s extreme distance from them made the rocket appear small and to be floating in the darkness.

Wa’ar was amazed at the length and steepness of the runway. “And the spaceship slides down and rides the curve up into the air.”

“Yes, gravity is used to begin it’s acceleration.” When Wa’ar didn’t say anything he added, “The rocket is on a sled. Which is covered on the bottom with magnets. The slide is also covered in magnets. Frictionless it will fall. Past the end of the slide the sled will drop off and the rocket will go up. The exciting part for many people will be when half way down the slide the engines turn on, and those panels at the end direct the exhaust. To help to push the rocket upwards.” He saw that Wa’ar was a little short to see over the railing and picked him up. Wa’ar wrapped his legs around his father’s waist. 

“We’ve seen movie clips of the boosters turning on. But, right here, right in front of us. This is going to be amazing. Thank you for bringing me here.” 

“Who said the rocket is taking off tomorrow?” Wa’ar jerked back in surprise, with no composed expression this time.

“What? It’s not?” They looked at each other with love. His father was teasing him. He snuggled into him again. “I like the smell of the air. It is so different than at home.” 

“Canned air never smells as good as outside. Did you know Cook sometimes makes things simply for their odor. When she cooks the spices, it’s for the odor.”

“No.” They both breathed the air for a while, looking at the view. “Why can’t we go outside at home?” Wa’ar asked plaintively. 

Softly into Wa’ar’s ear, he replied, “You know why. The animals would kill us. Easily.” 

“Maybe we could go on the roof?”

“If they built a cage. Otherwise those birds. The ones with the nest. They would feed us to their young.” His father sounded like he was teasing again.

“That would be bad.”

“That would be bad.” 

“Why can we be outside here? And it’s okay.”

“See the green strip.” Wa’ar looked at the tube of green light, just under the hand rail. It extended from one side of the balcony to the other. 

“Yes. Father.”

“If that goes red. We go inside and shut the door. Um. The whole place is walled with dirt berm and fenced in. And for attacks from the air.” He looked around, then pointed, “There are watchers. See over there on that building’s roof? The little house.” 

Wa’ar looked and looked, when he found it, he said, “Yes.” 

“Those are the lookout posts for animals. They watch for animals from above, and on the ground.” He hugged his son tilting his head against Wa’ar’s head, and carried him back inside. Setting him down carefully he closed the door. 

“What about animals that live in the water?” 

“There are no bodies of water here.” 

“That is good,” Wa’ar said nodding yes.

His father gave his faint smile, “That is good.”

“ARE we still playing the game?’ 

He father shrugged, “Are we STILL playing the game?” They laughed. He picked up Wa’ar and swung him around the room. Then dropped him and said, “I have another surprise for you.” Wa’ar waited. “Your mother is definitely coming.” 

“She is?” 

“Yes.” He looked down, “She is. One point to you.” They laughted again. “And we have a special dinner coming too!”

“And the rocket is taking off tomorrow?”

“Yes. Before the big sun sets.”

A man delivered their ToGo box. Inside Wa’ar unpacked a change of clothes, swimsuits and sleepwear for both of them, “Will mother be staying the night? Not tonight, but tomorrow night?” He set a box of toiletries in the bathroom. 

“Unknown.”

“Why is she coming tomorrow? My birthday is next week.”

“True. The rocket taking off today had a big part in her coming today.” His voice became softer and he sat next to Wa’ar on the bed. “She wanted to watch the rocket take off with you and to be here for your birthday. Wa’ar the next rocket launch is scheduled a year from now.”

“I don’t really remember the last time.” Wharf knew Wa’ar was referring to the last time he saw his mother. 

“She saw you on the day you were born. Obviously.” No. She really didn’t. “She saw you when you were five.”

“I barely remember her.” 

“Do you remember your manners?” Ruefully Wharf thought of the seemingly endless missives with endless rules on how to engage with his wife.

Wa’ar dropped his chin and looked up at his Father, “Of course.” It is a subject that is repeated endlessly during everyone’s fourth, ninth, fourteenth and nineteenth year. The rest of the time they are retelling stories of mistakes made and wonderful times had with their mothers. “No touching. Wait for her to talk first. Try to have perfect table manners. When she leaves, don’t cry. Don’t tell her anything about how she looks. Not that she looks older. Not about what she is wearing. Nothing about how you’ve been waiting to see her. If you are a girl, then smile the whole time. If you’re a boy try not to smile even once.” His father nodded and ran his hand over his bald head. 

Wa’ar yawned. He washed and changed into pj’s and went to bed. His father did the same.

In the morning another re-usable box arrived. Wa’ar handed the woman the now empty clothing box. Both boxes were identical. Wa’ar unpacked many containers. Some were table ware. Others were food. Some came in fancy boxes that converted into a pretty plate, used to display foodstuffs on the table. He opened the breakfast box. They ate standing up on the balcony, looking at the view. 

Wa’ar began folding the pretty boxes into serving plates. Sometimes his father watched, other’s times he went to the window and looked out at the rocket.

Wa’ar’s mother arrived. Wa’ar thought she was beautiful. She was smiling. Her hair matched his father’s hair color. She was so beautiful. He didn’t have to worry about not talking, he was so struck he couldn’t speak if he wanted to. He felt hot. They were sitting down and eating when Wa’ar came to his senses. His father was pleased with him. And he thought it must be because he was doing everything right. Wa’ar thought the food looked pretty. He ate a crustacean and liked it. His mother was so beautiful. He felt a little dizzy. Than hot again. He listened to his parents talking. His. His parents. He was happy. He listened to his father explain they were speaking aloud to practice for the coming year. Her voice was beautiful. He knew she was saying something about being polite to the women in his classes in the next grade. Or, she knew he would be polite to the women. He felt proud. She mentioned his grades over the past few years had improved and she was proud of him. She politely looked at Wharf when Wa’ar could no longer keep from smiling. He loved everything about her, even her name, Goldenrod. Goldenrod and Wharf. He wondered how they met. Derisively he thought of the Procreation Division. And hoped that wasn’t how.

The large sun began to set when the rocket took off. The little sun backlighting the takeoff was spectacular. The noise of the engines igniting was loud. Fireworks went off afterwards. They ignited down the length of the slide, imitating the take off of the rocket. Wa’ar went to sleep without seeing his mother leave.

___________________________________

Goldenrod waited until Wa’ar was sound asleep, then began giving him several injections.

“Will you stay the night?” 

“No. I love too many of my other husbands far more than I do you.” After she finished the injections she added, “First, go back to using telepathy for all communications in the household. Second, you will see a behavior change. He will spend more time with classmates. He will begin to tell them what he is thinking before he tells you. There must be no backlash against him. If he reverts and wants to spend time in your lap again, send a message each time he does this.” Goldenrod looked around the room, nodded to Wharf and walked towards the door.


	2. The day after.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wa’ar’s parents have a conversation. Goldenrod gives him injections. Wharf takes him to the pool the next day. Wharf and Wa’ar head home.

Wharf watched Goldenrod taking out a set of hypodermic needles and vials. A tightness grew across his chest, to the point he stopped breathing. He knew he was unable to stop her from giving Wa’ar injections or even asking what they were for. He wondered about a lot of things concerning Goldenrod in the next minute. Did a committee train her in the gentle art of dating a decade ago? Twelve years ago? Why did the hospital lie to him? They gave him food and instructions on the care and feeding of his newborn son, who they then discharged with him. Then told him Goldenrod was in surgery. Or recovery. Or she’d suffered a relapse and was in intensive care. When they said she had been moved to another hospital, he’d hired a detective.

The Detective informed him, “Goldenrod checked herself out on the day Wa’ar was born.” She was now living with a boyfriend and engaged to be married. Wharf had protested to the detective that Goldenrod was married to him. “Goldenrod filed for divorce the week before Wa’ar was born and the divorce went through the day after he was born,” explained the detective. Feeling for the young man, he then charged him for one hour’s work, instead of the three and a half hours it had taken him. The Detective was young, and Wharf’s case had intrigued him. A woman goes missing after giving birth? More likely it would be the father or even the mother takes off with the child. After the Goldenrod case every time a man complained his wife disappeared right after giving birth, he went straight to the divorce records and saved himself a lot of time.

Wharf, breathing feverishly, asked, “Will you stay the night?”

“No. I love too many of my other husbands far more than I do you.” Goldenrod nodded to Wharf and opened the door to leave.

Wharf saw a man in the hallway waiting for her.. Wharf felt his cheeks blushing in anger. All he could think was, “Why me?” Startled that he spoke the words out loud. Words that must have come across strongly. Goldenrod let go of the door and came back to him. The door was pulled closed by the man outside. Which rankled. She sat on a chair opposite him, studying him for a moment. “How many men have you married?”

“We are all being used.” She softened in a way he’d not seen since they were married.

Wharf’s voice caught an edge as he said aloud, “We were married for one, great, year. You were the perfect wife. I loved you. I loved loving you. And you left me the day our child was born! You used me. To have a child you didn’t want? How many times have you been married? How many children have you left with their fathers?”

He looked at her tender expression and hated her, for the first time in a dozen years.

“I have been pregnant every year since I turned sixteen. Why you? Why me?” She paused and shook her head, “We, me, you and all the fathers of all my children all have the same trait. Encephalitic Genetic Telepathic Syndrome. People born with EGT, they dropped the S, either die, or they have a type of telepathy that is rare. They don’t know what makes it work, or how it works. But, people with it, have more than the base level of telepathy than everyone else. Eight of my children have died.” She turned away, “Shortly after birth.”

“I have EGT.” It should have been a question, but it came out flat.

“Yes. As does Wa’ar.”

Wharf breathed and looked over Goldenrod’s face. Trying to read her expression. She was giving him the same smile she always wore, “How many other children do you have?” He asked quietly.

“Including Wa’ar. Fifteen. We don’t know which of them has it. It says Genetic in the name and it’s not true. There are no genes in the DNA for EGT. From other women with EGT who are constantly having children, as I am, they have a general idea that of my fifteen children who lived past their first birthday we can expect four to six of them to be full blown EGT telepaths. And if you read about EGT you find that all the ‘great’ telepaths had EGT.

“I’m not a great telepath.”

“If the word recessive works. Than that is what you and I are. We are carriers. One of my children might be one of the ‘greats’.”

“Why? Why are they manipulating people like this?” Wharf didn’t expect an answer.

“Another reason you were chosen.” She stopped when she saw his staring eyes. “Wharf you have empathy.” She shook her head, “Your empathy is off the charts. And your parenting skills are right up there.”

So, it was his ‘empathy’, that was pushing him to want to be with her? Wharf walked stiffly over to the window. Looking out, he decided to get as much explanation out of her as he could, before she left, “Why do I have to send you a message if Wa’arwants to retreat from, whatever you are thinking of doing to him?” He turned back to her, “There are cameras all over our apartments and I’ve even seen them in the halls and the elevator. And the places we go, more than once. They show up.”

“Security uses those cameras. Not me.”

“What do they think is going to happen?”

“You don’t really need the cameras. In fact. You’re described as ideal.” She took a deep breath and stood up. “I shouldn’t have told you all of this.” There was a hard knock at the door. It opened. Wharf’s eyebrows went up.

A smiling woman said, “Goldie Rod. What’s taking so long? The plane is ready and waiting for you.” Goldenrod was moving towards the door from the moment it opened. She didn’t look back as she left.

___________________________________________________ 

The next morning Wharf let Wa’ar sleep in. When he did awake sore and groggy, Wharf implied the last two days had been very exciting. Which was causing the out of sorts feelings Wa’ar was having. He spoke to his son using telepathy and tried to hide it by speaking whenever one of them was facing away from the other. They ate, loafed and looked out the window. Wharf suggested they go visit the swimming pool.

The glass enclosed pool area on the roof was quite a highlight for the hotel.The bottom edge was open to the air allowing an unobstructed view and fresh air. Vertical poles kept out large birds. Guests whose rooms faced away from the rocket launchings used the area for viewing the blast-offs, rather than being outside on the hotel grounds and putting them in a position of possible bird attacks.

Wa’ar looked around at the hundreds of people scattered in and around two large pools. They drifted over to an area with fewer people. They found chairs near a lap pool and two wading ponds for little children.

Wa’ar wanted to sit. So, his father let him. After having his hair tied up, he swam lengths in the lap pool. The single women and their parents all watched the tying of Wharf’s hair. He’d relied on an employee to tie up his hair. Thus he was single. The women found the length of his hair alluring. His wealth was evident from the expensive tie. A wave of some excitement passed as the fathers recognized the pattern of Wharf’s skirt. They nodded to their wives. A general exodus of young ladies moved towards Wharf.

Wa’ar kept looking up at the sky and the silhouettes of birds of prey the management placed on the glass. Brightly colored on the inside, they were flat black on the outside. They were used to keep songbirds from flying killing themselves. He eventually entered the deeper of the two pools. He swirled his arms around in the water looking up at the sky.

Wharf dried off. Oblivious to the women around him. He kept a close eye on his son and thought about Goldenrod. He decided she was also a great actress.

He watched Wa’ar come over to him and lay on his towel. His eyes looked ‘dopey’, or sleepy. But he was focusing alright. He was just not looking at anything. Wharf chastised himself for not finding out about the side effects of the drugs.

The unthinkable happened. A large bird, a young bird, not yet knowing about glass, plummeted from a great height into the roof of glass. Attempting to catch one of the children in the broad expanse of water, with it’s talons outstretched and it’s wings folded back and above itself, it smashed into the glass. Wharf saw the great winged beast land on the child. Wharf heard Wa’ar’s yell. “No!” He felt the shock of that cry and saw the bird die.

There was a pause. Everyone froze. A few people came up for air. Others exited the elevators, wondering what was happening. The area erupted in pandemonium. Some rushed for the child.

Wharf stared at the bird. Scooped up Wa’ar and headed for the elevator. The other people in the elevator were stressed mothers acting very calmly with their children. Saying calming sentences, “That was surprising. But, we are okay,” and “The child is fine.” While giving reassuring smiles. They held them or their hands, calmly.

Wa’ar, without a smile, said, “Somebody will have to fix the glass.”

“That’s true.” Wharf replied. Calmly.

Entering their room, Wa’ar pointed to the bed. Wharf gently lowered him. He pulled up the covers around him, tucked him in.

“Kiss me.” Wharf did so. Wa’ar gazed at his father. He curled up and went to sleep.

His father sat and thought over the events of the last twenty four hours. Eventually he placed an order for Wa’ar’s favorite foods. In the greenhouse, he looked over the small shrubs, and picked a few leaves and a tomato. Running the hot water, he made a tea using the leaves. He ate the tomato with salt while looking out the balcony.

He had thought that his relationship with Goldenrod might be repaired. He had hoped to tease and woo, and love Goldenrod. That she might agree to visit more frequently and he would win her back.

He knew better now. He did the math. He was twenty seven. He’d been sixteen when they met. Goldenrod must be thirty nine now. So she was twenty nine or twenty eight when they married. He took a deep breath. Placed his hands on his hips. Wa’ar was her eleventh or twelfth child. His hands moved slowly over his belly until he was hugging himself. He’d believed he was her first and only husband.

Wharf sighed. He shut the door carefully and went to the wine cooler. He took out an expensive wine. He’d hoped to share this with her. Ruefully thinking, “That bird crashed.” He debated what to do with it. Leave it for the staff? Send it home with the rest of their luggage? Gift it to someone? To his Cook and Maid? He knew if he opened it, he’d be drinking angry. That just wasn’t him. He couldn’t decide. Absently he placed it in the luggage ToGo box.

Grief washed over him. Time passed. He watched the sunset. The little sun was often referred to as the male to their female sun. While they didn’t live in a binary system, the ‘little boy’ sun was just close enough that it’s pinpoint of light could be seen even in broad daylight. In fact it was the neighboring sun’s solar system that encouraged the desire for space travel. It seemed like an unobtainable dream, that they might reach it in his lifetime.

Wharf thought back over the messages he’d received from Goldenrod. Both the ones through the years and the five he’d received just prior to this visit. They must have been from some office. He did not believe she’d ever sent him anything. All those directives about not touching her. They applied to him as much as to his son. Angry again he stared unseeing at the view. He caught himself as he thought; a bird could come up and snatch him away and he’d never see it coming. He went back inside. 

Laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling he thought; I could remarry. There was nothing keeping him from doing just that. Why didn’t he remarry? All this time. Ten years he’d been what? Waiting for Goldenrod to come back to him? She has a job, get pregnant. That’s why the no touching. No romance. Wharf took a ragged breath. Because she can’t have two children by the same man.

Wa’ar’s fifth birthday was celebrated with a special, spectacular cake. She had shared it with them. Then the knock at the door and a “Come quick.” And she’d left. Yesterday a woman walked in, “The plane is waiting.” It was all fake. Of course it was. The timing of everything was too planned out, too perfect.

Wharf sat on the side of the bed, rubbing his face. Oh. She had had the cake before. So, she was up to fifteen children, that was why she didn’t celebrate each birthday. Fifteen cakes every year. She didn’t have the time. She had to get on with the next pregnancy. Each fifth, tenth and fifteenth birthday, she arrived ate cake, and left. Did she visit them while she was pregnant? Was she pregnant yesterday? A cold steelyness came into his eyes as he thought of how easily he’d gotten this room. In this hotel. With as many days as he wanted. Time enough to go up to the pool. Was the bird crashing thru the glass chance? He didn’t know what to believe. How could anyone make such a thing happen? He had no idea. And that was the moment Wharf truly left Goldenrod.   
____________________________________________

The following morning Wa’ar stayed in bed watching his father eat and then pack. Wharf paid the bill and filled out a form and tucked it into the slot on the top of the box, then flipped the tab over, to seal the note inside. The hotel staff would ship the ToGo box home.

Finally Wa’ar got up and dressed, because it was time to begin the trip home. His father added his pj’s to the box. He looked around for anything they may have forgotten, then he sealed the box shut. He set it next to the door, gave Wa’ar a slim smile and they left.

During the trip Wa’ar had no problem not smiling. Nor did he seem to notice any of the people either before they boarded or after they left the train. He slept most of the way. When he was awake he stared out the window. Sometimes he looked at his hands. Back, safely at home, Wa’ar went to bed without eating.

The next morning Wa’ar seemed to be back to his old self. He seemed more interested in space travel, than he had been before. He studied with a ferocious simplicity.

His father saw the change in his son. There were times when Wa’ar was adorable. And there were times when he was still a child. But, Wa’ar never returned to being just his adorable child.

During the next four years Wharf remarried and they had two more children. He also found the same cake Goldenrod had used to celebrate Wa’ar’s fifth birthday. He made sure to order the same cake every year from then on, for Wa’ar’s birthday. When Goldenrod came to his door on Wa’ar’s fifteenth birthday, Wharf gave her a hard, flat look and said, “No.” She smiled and left. He shut the door. Wharf, his wife and three children enjoyed the cake very much. As they did every year.


	3. Wa’ar’s trip.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tribe takes Wa’ar in as one of their own. They call him Warren. A lifetime later he leaves them.

Wa’ar awoke blinking. Eyes open or shut, everything was blackness. Lethargically he moved an arm. His knuckles bumped into walls. He wasn’t frightened being in a pod, submerged, encased in oxygenated water. The shock was that he recognized immediately from his training, that this was real and not a classroom exercise. His heart sank. A wave of anger and frustration washed over him and he hit the wall. Then fear took over. If he broke the pod, he would grow old and die, or starve and die, or freeze into a block of ice and die. He was trapped in this pod. And for now it was the best and only place for him to survive.

So! TSP, the Telepathic Space Flight planners did this to him. He’d thought it strange that his Trip Planners came to him so late in the evening. Excitedly they explained they’d been waiting for his return to tell him, he’d qualified for the next step in his training. One month of intense self-reliance. Training that would not allow him to communicate with his friends or family. When he happily signed the form with his thumbprint, the message was sent to everyone on his contact list. Just like that, it was a done deal.

He’d showered, went to bed, and now he was here. Why am I so lethargic? I don’t remember anyone injecting me. Frustrated and angry he thought about how everyone, his parents, his friends, all believed he was still there, in the school. Well, at least for a month. Meanwhile TSP waited until I was asleep, in bed, in my room!And now! I wake up and am already aboard a ship. I am not supposed to wake up during the flight. You are supposed to arrive and then wake up. How long have I been gone? And how had they shipped me out, without anyone knowing I was gone?

Wait, what? There was no launch scheduled. How did they do it? It’s a big production to launch someone into space. And in which direction am I traveling? Which planet, in which system am I going to? He didn’t know and he was sure his family didn’t either. Without knowing the direction, and the length, that is, the distance away a person was from the sender, well, it was almost impossible to reach a person telepathically.

Everything about telepathy came naturally to Wa’ar. He practiced on people from all over the globe, listening in on them without their knowing. Which was fun. He was very good. Better than all the other students. Even most of the teachers were not as good as he was. Thought they never admitted it, not even to themselves. Wa’ar had even started to manipulate people’s thoughts, without the teachers even knowing he had that ability. He didn’t feel guilty, even though he knew it was wrong. It was wrong because manipulating people’s thoughts was somehow related to being able to take a life, with thought. And that was evil. When Wa’ar talked to the Lord his number one question was always, “Why am I different?” He had always tried to help his friends increase their abilities, yet they never seemed to use telepathy as easily as himself.

Power used in telepathy was like gravity. Good luck proving what they either of them are, exactly. All I need is a vector. How much power and which direction. Then, I’ll let my father and friends know I’m okay. I’m aboard a ship. Heading towards some planet. They can talk to TSP and find out which planet.

Why am I awake now? The drugs they used on me must have worn off. Wa’ar tried to query the computer, to say, “Hello?” The fluid swished in and out of his mouth. He tried telepathy. Neither produced any response from the ship’s computer. It must know he’s awake.

He tried talking to the Planners, sending out a general message in all directions of, “Hello.” He increased his power. Then a little more. Finally he went full on with the most power he’d ever used. And repeated his message over and over. Eventually he heard what sounded like a recording, “You are now safely on your voyage, and will experience awake and sleep cycles until you reach your destination. Practice meditation.” Wa’ar smiled to himself, the reply gave him a vector. He tried to reach his father. He heard nothing from Wharf or his mother. Relieved, he heard a reply from his best friend, Jack.

“Hello?”

“Jack, is it you? This is Wa’ar.”

“Oh. I am surprised. It’s been so long. I’ve missed you.” He paused, “They kept telling us you were in some sort of special training. And you were incommunicado. But then, it went on for so long.”

“Last night, yesterday, we ate dinner together.”

Jack laughed, “Wa’ar I hate to tell you this. We had dinner, um, four decades ago, about. I got married. Me! Now, we have kids, our kids are having kids. They call me grandpa. Can you imagine that?”

Four decades? Wa’ar couldn’t think, “No. The Planners did this. I had dinner with you. I went to bed and woke up here. I don’t know where I’m headed.”

“You are so strong. You always have been better than the rest of us. Yeah. I missed you for a long time. It’s not like you’re alone. Not really. You’re asleep. You took a forty year nap. And I’m the first person you are talking to?” Jack’s ‘voice’ took on a somber note. “Oh, your parents. They are both dead. And your brother and sister. They all passed away.”

“And my first mother?”

“Yes, I think she also died at the same time.”

“How did they die?” 

“Well, I know we’re not supposed to upset you. You not being able to change anything here.”

“Tell me.”

“It was a bomb. Big one. Half the city was gone. It took a while to determine that they were in it.”

“How many did die?”

“Almost five million. Four million, seven hundred, plus. I realize how it looks from your perspective. I think I am the only one you know that is still here and alive.” His voice changed again. He was saying goodbye. “Well. It’s been good talking to you. But. I got a date with a hot nurse. He’s twentyfive and strong as, well.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m old and I broke a leg. I have physical therapy everyday. Gotta go.”

Jack’s old, then it was true, he’d been gone decades. “Wait! How is Juniper?”

“Ah. What? Juniper? I don’t remember a Juniper. Gotta go practice walking.” And Jack was gone.

Wa’ar floated weightless in the dark and cried. He didn’t believe Jack’s assertion that he didn’t know Juniper. She was in all their classes. For years! Jack had to have seen him talking to her. He remembered talking to Jack about Juniper, about all kinds of things. Her birthday’s and holidays they’d spent together. Why did he lie to me? Wa’ar’s tears mixed in with the surrounding water.

Wa’ar sadly thought about his family dying because of a bomb. Wa’ar never heard from Jack again. Later he made the connection, if the sleep cycles lasted about forty years, then by the time he’d been awake again, Jack had been long dead.

During each awake cycle, Wa’ar thought over the past. He went into a mild state of shock, as he realized Jack had answered him, because Jack had not taken a flight to another planet. Jack was good, very good and had looked forward to taking his trip as much as he did, so? Why didn’t Jack tell him why he’d stayed? And why hadn’t he asked him? 

Wa’ar attempted to ask the Planners two questions. “Where am I headed?” And, “Why can I not talk to my friends? If they shipped out, then we are both alive. Give me their direction.” Until an exasperated reply came.

“We continue to live and die. You do not. I belong to the hundredth generation of planners, and I like looking after all of you.” 

Wa’ar found her attitude irritating. “All?”

“You are not the only ship we’ve sent.” Yes. Of course. That’s what I meant.

”Why was I sent alone?”

”You are not alone. Everyone is sent out as part of a team. Some more than others.”

“How many of my friends survived? And if my friends are in any of the ships, please give me their directions and let me talk to them.”

“We sent one each year.” He thought it over. She’s not listening, or she‘s not telling me. Snarkly she added, “I hear you thinking.”

“Of course. Sorry.” He shielded his thoughts.

“They are each sent in a different direction.”

“Yes! I know. Tell me their beginning directions and I’ll find them.”

“There is a group of children. They study long distance telepathy. I’ll set it up. You can talk to them.” And she was gone.

Wa’ar wondered why she didn’t give him the directions of his friends? He tried a general,“Hello.” He tried his friends names. There were no replies. The universe was simply too vast. He felt something like a chill, thinking that maybe the other travelers had already reached their destinations. If they had, well then they had grown old and most likely died of old age.

Wa’ar heard from several children.

”Hello?”

”Hello.”

”What. What’s it like being in deep sleep?”

”I don’t know I’m asleep. How does it feel when you are asleep?”

”What’s it like being in a ship?”

”I cannot see anything. I would rather not be awake. Since it is a bit like being in a sensory deprivation tank.”

”What is that?”

A different child asked, “What’s it like to travel in space?”

“Like what? Can I feel myself moving through space? No. Sorry.”

”What was the take-off like? Was it fun watching the ground go away?”

”Did you get sick?”

Wa’ar tried to not sound snippy. “I slept through the takeoff. Also there are no windows.”

An obviously older child spoke next. “Did you know that advances have been made in shipping embryos? The embryos were now being ‘shipped’ at the blastula stage.”

”Oh. No.” That was depressing. Instead of a case full of embryos, they might have all fit in a thermos.

“And! Implantation is so easy. Because the insertion device is thinner than a pencil AND very flexible. And they might not be as fragile.

Wa’ar exasperated, butt in and asked, “How goes the fighting? You have my condolences if you lost anyone in the bombing.” He waited. They were gone.

___________________________________________________

Awake cycles came and went. The children’s conversation got Wa’ar to thinking. He attempted to leave his body and using his consciousness, to look around. He was eventually successful. Everything was greenish or blueish and looked transparent. The place was very cramped. He found a hatch, on the other side was the TTHU, the temporary transit and housing unit. Of, course. That’s how we land on the planet. Boredom led him to reach outside his ship. He was again, successful. His body stayed safely tucked away in it’s pod while his consciousness learned to sit on the outside of the speeding rocket. It was still blackness in every direction out there. He practiced letting go, and not being left behind. He’d learned to travel beside the rocket. Something he’d never done back home!

He looked for the second pod. There was no second pod. She either lied or did not know he’d been sent out in a ship with only one pod. He slept.

When being outside his body grew boring he reached out to any sentient thoughts in the nearby area. For the most part, he heard nothing. Awake cycles came and went. He wondered how long the awake cycles lasted. Hours. Maybe a day? He hit on the idea of counting. He kept thinking and losing track. He used his fingers to keep track of each thousand. One day he counted sixteen thousand. The second time he counted eighteen thousand. So, he was awake for less than half a day every forty years or more. 

The next time he reached out to the Planners, he got no reply. He tried for anyone else on the planet, and got a nice surprise.

“Hello?”

“Hello.” 

“Who are you?” 

“I am Wa’ar.” 

“Oh. Wait.” There was a long pause. “Your name, that means you are one of the flights. Right?”

Flights? “Yes. I know what you mean.” 

“I’m Jim.”

“Hello, Jim. How are you and your family?” 

“Things are not so good here. The population is too large. People are killing each other. I’m with my,” he paused, “with my family. We are in hiding.” 

“Are you okay?”

“Oh, of course. We are decedents of the old Space Planners Group. We are in their fortresses.” (Fortresses?) “We have everything we need. We are waiting out the killing. When they are done, life will go on again. As it was before.”

“Do they still send out a ship every year?”

Another pause. “No. They cut that back. First it was once every ten years, no twenty. I think. Hey, how old are you?” 

“I was twenty when I left. I think I probably look the same.” 

“What year did you leave?” 

“21053.” 

“Wow. Do you know what year it is now?”

He was a little afraid of the answer, “No.”

“59611.”

Shock spread over his body. He didn’t think of anything. Finally he asked, “How old are you?” 

“Eight.” Eight! Did I reach him because I’m good, or he is?Jim continued, “I’m looking you up. There is a picture of you. You look nice. Do you still have an old fashioned haircut?” 

Wa’ar thought it over and did one of his mind trips. But instead of being outside the ship, he stayed inside and steeled himself and looked. It was pitch dark. He tried looking without seeing. Everything looked ghostly, or solarized and greenish. He looked into the tank. His eyes were thankfully shut, and his hair was very long. It wafted around him gently. For the first time he felt his hair and the fluid surrounding himself. It was creepy.

“My hair is tickling my toes.” 

“Ha, Ha, Ha.” Came back Jim’s laughter. Suddenly with urgency Jim said, “I have to go.” And he was gone.

Wa’ar explored the ship. Without any lights, everything was the idea, of that thing. He remembered to keep pace with the ship. And it was weird passing thru metal. Which got him to thinking about his movements. Moving through, the fluid of his cocoon, the ship, and the space outside the ship, were all the same thing. Because he was using thought. Of course.

Wa’ar found the embryos during one wake cycle, and he continued to return to them. He concluded they were awake when he was awake!

They were tiny. About the size of his thumb nail. They looked identical to each other. He started trying to communicate with them. He had nothing to say, so he said, “Hello.” And, “It’s another beautiful day with me, your host, Wa’ar. We’re in a ship traveling together, to nowhere.” They might have been toys or plants for all the response they gave him. 

Cycles came and went. The embryos changed slightly. Some of them listened. Wa’ar was delighted. He had someone to talk to, instead of talking at them. He treated them like they were his students and gave them names. He started with ‘beginning lessons in telepathy’. Some began to give him a response. Not much, less than the blink an eye. But! It was a reaction.

Over the eons, Wa’ar moved on, eventually reaching graduate class lessons. After all, what else was there to do?

In the middle of a lesson on: “Leaving your body, and using your consciousness to view the world”, Wa’ar abruptly stopped. “What is this noise?” Wa’ar apologized, “Excuse me. Do any of you hear that?” There was no reply. “Excuse me. I believe this warrants an immediate investigation”, Wa’ar began to explore the ship. He checked each embryo. Calling them by the names he had given them. He reached one, that he had named Juniper. As he finished his inspection of the ship, he daydreamed of his Juniper back home. She was the only person he’d ever bedded. Technically candidates for the trip program were strongly convinced not to make emotional ties of a romantic nature with anyone. Juniper and he had played it very quiet, so no one knew the feelings they had for each other. If. If, they had known about them, he probably would have been kicked out of the program. The next night, he’d met Jack for dinner, and then he was shipped out.

He looked at the embryos again, “Good night, group,” and returned to his body. He thought over his conversation with Jack at that last dinner. They teased each other. Maybe if he’d been kicked out of the program he’d have married Jack or maybe Juniper. He started crying. People sent on trips were supposed to be sent in pairs and he was alone. If Ju-nip had been sent, who was her shipmate? If she stayed, then she must have married someone and was now dead.

Jack had said something at that last dinner. Wa’ar couldn’t quite remember what it was, but his response had been to blush. He didn’t think anyone noticed. He stopped breathing and went ridged. They knew. The Planners knew. Either they knew all along about him and Juniper or they saw his reaction to Jack. They had waited until he was asleep and then they shipped him out. They shipped him out that same night. He dreamed about Jack for a while. Then he came to a sad conclusion. Maybe the Planners talk to the other astronauts, but not to him. Maybe they told them where they were headed. Maybe his destination was not programmed in. Maybe his computer had been stripped down to ‘necessary’ conversation. Maybe his computer had been programmed to simply keep him alive, until by chance, they reached a planet. And what if the sleep cycles had been lengthened? While keeping the wake cycles down to half a day? How would he know?

In a drowsy state, about to fall asleep, Wa’ar thought. Jack said, “Who is Juniper?” He stayed behind. He married. Maybe Jack married Juniper.

Wa’ar went into the next sleep cycle, feeling sad and alone.

Wa’ar awoke and knew straight off, something was different. He looked all around, in and outside the ship. Nothing looked different. He went to the embryos, and said “Hi,” addressing each by their name. Wa’ar gave them names of people important to him. The embryo who listened and gave not even the subtlest of replies, he named Jerry, after one of his teachers. It never occurred to him, that by not ever referring to last names, he was setting the embryos up, to not using last names in the future.It also didn’t occur to him, they were learning it was normal to travel outside one’s self.

To the embryos Wa’ar was visiting and sharing with them every day, shortly after waking, and frequently his first query was, “Is everyone in the group awake?” Thus they became, “The Group.” The Group that used telepathy with each other, shortly after waking each day.

Wa’ar slept, he awoke to a low hum. He looked around, “Hi, is everyone in the group alright?” They were the same as always. He returned to his body and tried to reach the computer. Nothing. He tried the Trip Planners. Nothing.. Maybe they all died! He knew he shouldn’t be upset with them, and went back to listening for patterns in the hum. He slept.

He awoke. The humming was faintly louder. He concluded he was hearing all the thoughts of a whole planet. Obviously they were not shielding their thoughts. He tried to make sense of what he heard. Some spoke in unison. He slept looking forward to the next wake cycle. The embryos noticed his alarm and curiosity.

Wa’ar awoke to the computer talking to him, “The fluid in your capsule will be flushed. You may feel you are suffocating. You are not dying.In front of you will be a tray with a shaver and nail clippers. Clip your finger nails and your toe nails. Use the shaver to cut your hair. All your hair on your head, your beard and possibly on your chest and groin area. Place the shaver on the tray, to begin the rinse.”

Yes. He’d learned that in class. While in the pod, people shed their hair, which having no place to go, become tangled mats. He was giddy with excitement. This meant they were close to their final destination.

The water flushed out in a swirling motion down to his feet. He felt like he was breathing and drowning at the same time, and chose to ignore the feeling, which was nauseating. The top opened. He opened his eyes a crack. He didn’t know what he thought he would see, but all he saw was glints of light shining thru his hair. He had to dig and wind his way through the mass of hair to reach the shaver. The end was round and attached to a hose. Suction removed the hair. He remembered how to operate it. Pressing it against himself it cut and removed what ever was in front of the opening. He was not worried. The device was made to not cut skin. It felt like hours went by. The pod was well lit. He kept looking up and out the top hatch at the ship’s ceiling and the wiring and tubes. Just for something to look at. His nails were in the way. He cut them and went back to shaving. The clippings hung in his hair until sucked up by the shaver. He found the tubes attached to a ‘pad’ stuck to his groin, for collecting his waste.

Then he felt a presence. He stopped shaving. It was the embryos. That was new. He said, “Hi, everyone. I am a little busy, getting a hair cut today.” Their presence faded away, except for a few. Who appeared to be watching him. Alonso, Jack, and Jim. Jerry seemed to be there also, but he was as usual completely ignoring Wa’ar.

The computer continued. “Place the shaver on the tray, to begin the rinse.”

“I got it. Not yet.” His voice sounded like he was gargling, and his mouth hurt. He cut the back of his head, and then it was such relief when the mass hanging down under his armpits was gone.. Sigh. He attacked his groin area. He coughed up water. His lungs hurt. “How long before we reach the planet?”

“A night and a day. A night and a day.” Why is the computer talking like that? 

“Why are my nails and hair not longer?”

“Hair removal occurs as necessary.” 

“Why didn’t you cut them this time?” There was no reply.

“Why do my eyes feel like they cannot open very wide?”

“Dead skin. A cloth and scraper will be provided.”

Somebody had cut way back on the computer’s verbal interface. He rinsed rubbing the hair off himself. He reveled in the touch and kept stroking his skin, on and off until he went into the next sleep cycle. The water was cold. The tray returned with a cloth and a scraper. In the end he rubbed his eyes, his nostrils, ears and privates with his fingers and scraped with his nails. Everywhere else he used the scraper. It was an unpleasant feeling, scraping it on his skin. He worked slowly and shook his hands hard to remove the gooey dead skin. He finished up with the cloth, enjoying it’s feel on his skin. Running water might have been helpful?

Moving the shaver on the tray, he was drenched again. He looked at his reflection in the silver wall of the pod. The tray returned with a tube of lotion. He rubbed it in everywhere. When he ran out, computer gave him a second tube. Then a third.

“What am I going to do with this? Take it away.” It delivered a forth tube. “After we land how do I leave the pod? Where is the exit?” 

“You will be instructed after landing.” Everything felt cold. The capsule refilled, before he could speak again he wondered how the computer was exercising his body, since he’d had the strength to stand. He gulped in the rising water and slept.

Wa’ar woke and talked to the embryos, “Hello Group! Tomorrow we reach our new home.” He was being overwhelmed by all the voices coming from the new planet. He returned to his body and listened to hear the differences between humans and animals. He listened to the different languages. He listened to people speaking in unison. He slept.

____________________________________________________

Wa’ar awoke alarmed. The capsule was empty of fluid. His lungs were clear. He felt empty, heavy. He was laying on his back with a blanket over him. He knew what this was. Gravity! They had landed! He wanted to see! “Computer get me out of here.” The lid raised up. The lights were on. He felt his face and head, his hair had grown out somewhat. But, he thought gleefully, not forty years worth. He smelt his hand, it seemed he’d vomited. Computer had cleaned him up. Probably using suction.

“Hi.” Wa’ar asked the embryos, “Is everyone doing well?” They gave almost no answer. He sat up uneasily, becoming dizzy. When he felt better, he disconnecting the catheters from the pad, “Open the door.”

The outer door opened inward. He shakily stood up and sat back down. He looked out the door at a lake and sky. The colors were beautiful. “Such beauty. Such terror.” He took a deep breath of air. He smelled water! And plants! And something else. “What do I do first?” He took the two steps to the door, hung on to it and looked out.

“First, all your teeth will fall out. When the next set erupt, you will be ready to leave the temporary transport and housing unit.”

Oh. Right. He’d always glossed over this part of the lessons. It had seemed so far into the future. The TTHU. He must acclimate. He rubbed his face. He wanted a bath. Right after being surrounded by fluid for how long? He wanted to get wet?

“What was the duration of the trip?” 

“Unknown.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

Wa’ar ran his hands over his chest. He didn’t necessarily want to be wet, he wanted to feel, touch. A breeze blew the air around him. He reveled in it’s cold embrace. His hair moved. He jumped internally at it’s brushing against his neck.

The computer continued with it’s list, “You must exercise your limbs and build up your muscle mass. You must practice balance exercises, walking, and speaking. Your body will recover it’s ability to hold your wastes. Until then you must wear diapers. Diapers are found in locker Ao3.

Wa’ar stepped out and onto planet Earth.

It was wonderful. The wind blowing on his body, the sounds from everywhere and the aromas. He took a step. He felt every little blade of grass. He sunk into the wet ground, getting his feet muddy. He was dizzy again as his depth perception came back. He saw no large birds in the sky.

Wa’ar found the early morning light beautiful and he kept shutting his eyes against the pain. In various spots he looked and found all the colors of the rainbow, some with great intensity. Other colors were pale and thin looking. The smells after being on the ship for so long were too diverse. He didn’t know what made such odors and he took long deep inhales. The air was moist, like a blanket of water. It felt like his skin was absorbing the water into his body. I love this place, he thought to himself. Then he thought of the embryos and did a little mind trip to them, to share the beautiful world with them. Wa’ar was interrupted, and started at a sound. Something fell. He looked and saw nothing. He listened telepathically for any animals or people nearby. Lots of animals gave off their droning thoughts, but none of them were on the attack. He had no idea what animals lived here in this place. So, for now he ignored them. He listened for people and heard every single person on the planet, who was speaking! There were no people physically near him.

He heard little repetitive sounds. Flip, flip. With a slight irregularity in it’s tempo, that didn’t stop. Carefully he moved forward looking all around with each step. He found the source of the noise. The water in the death trap of a lake was moving. He thought about it as he looked at everything. Something splashed out in the lake. He missed what it was and kept an eye on the water.

The computer did a great job of finding the perfect location for his first habitat. A forest with shrubs and shady spots was behind him, and a horrifying lake reflected the beautiful sky in front of him. Across the lake stood three tall pointy mountains with lots of tall ridges all around.

He returned the nine steps to the TTHU. “Why does the water move?”

“Movement in bodies of water on the planet are influenced by the rotation of the planet under the water, the moon, the air on the surface of the water and objects in the water.” The moon? That answer made no sense to him. He continued to warily watch the lake.

“Computer. How many more sets of teeth can I expect?”

“Unknown.”

He wondered how long before the sun set and muttered, “How much time do I have?”

“Thirty six minutes.” What? That can’t be right.

“How long before the sun sets?”

“Eleven hours, four minutes.”

“What happens in thirty six minutes?”

“All traces of the TTHU will be eliminated.”

“What?” Alarm spread through him, “No! Stop it. Stop the countdown.”There was no answer. “Are you still counting down?”

“The TTHU will be obliterated in thirty five minutes.”

He quickly decided the number one thing he needed most was the embryos. After that he needed food, tools, weapons, and clothing. “I need the embryos!”

“The embryos are in the base of the bed.”

Right! The TTHU was made to slip through the atmosphere. If everything failed, the bed was made to protect the person inside, from the shock of landing, from fire and if the bed landed in water the foamy gel inside expanded, pushing off panels and allowed it to float. Inside, underneath the layer of bedding gel, encased in more gel, was the case of embryos.

Wa’ar pulled out the case. Fear and alarm drove him on. He looked for supplies and opened doors and compartments. They were empty! He opened Ao3. He found a pair of shorts. He clumsily put them on. What!? What?! “Where is everything?”

“Unknown parameters.”

Everything was empty. No tools or medicine. He was astounded. In the food lockers he found water and nothing to eat. He disconnected the water bag, took the embryos and fell getting out the door. He got up and ran with his friends and the water crazily into the trees. Behind a tree wide enough to cover three or four people, he crouched down.

A small bomb went off, then the fire started. It was loud and bright. Wa’ar looked at the shadows of the trees, made by the fire and then looked towards the flames. They were blindingly white. The ship was melting.

Wa’ar took a deep breath. He had to reach the people who lived the closest to him. Even if they were cannibalistic.

He listened to the fire. Well, he had a signal. If he did a mind trip and found the peoples exact location, he intended to go to them. The fire was big enough to guide him back to his body. He laid down. His body relaxed in relief. He checked the area again, and did the mind trip.

The people looked very different. They had no vehicles. No houses. They did have little tents arranged around a fire.

He was going to have to walk back, past the fire, near the killer lake to reach them. Or go around the TTHU and avoid the lake. Could he do it in eleven hours?

He attempted to listen in on their conversations. They talked about each other. Some sang. Others talked about something they were making. Wa’ar sighed to himself. He found a child and tried to introduce the idea of exploring towards the lake. He returned to his body.

What to do first? He dropped his shorts, which chafed his skin and looked at the ends of the tubes coming out of the stick-on diaper. One was tan and the other clear. He pulled it off, and understood how it worked. The brown was attached to a suction and the clear brought in clean water to rinse him. He debated wearing it, and dropped the ‘diaper’ on the ground. Carefully he pulled his shorts on. Leaning against the tree, even though the bark hurt the skin of his arm, he thought about the eleven hours he had to reach the people. He needed every minute. He had to be strong and he had to be brave and risk the water route.

The case and water were heavy. He was heavy. He was breathing hard. He tried to run past the lake and slipped on the muddy grasses. Terrified of the lake and not wanting to be burned, he scrambled along lugging the water and case. He reached dryer ground, and stopped crawling and stood up. He looked back at the fire and the water he’d braved. Ten hours before nightfall. He carefully sat on the case, rubbing his knees and feet, wishing he had shoes.

His thoughts kept returning to the door of the TTHU. It opened in. They don’t, he remembered, they slide into the wall. So, this TTHU was old. Maybe even a prototype. Someone had stripped it or never stocked it in the first place. Why? And who, hated him that much? And the computer’s language, it gave him only the most basic information.

Yet, he was given viable embryos.

His skin was burning up in the sun. He walked to reach the shade of a tree. The ground around it was covered in picky, dead, needle shaped leaves. His feet were not made for this trek. 

Wa’ar was a city boy trying to survive. He tripped on plants. On rocks. Sometimes the ground moved under his feet. He slipped on the wet grasses, the dry grasses and the sand. The lake was beautiful beyond measure and he respected it for the death trap he knew it to be. He walked. He was relieved he hadn’t seen any large birds. Each time he sat he did a mind trip to the boy, with always the same telepathic thought. Look at the lake.

They found each other. Wa’ar placed the embryos down, gently and slowly. His water was long gone. He listened to their thoughts. Some were afraid and wanted to kill him. They wondered what weapons he had. Wa’ar slowly brought up both hands, showing his empty palms.

The men of the village thought he was death or a dead person. Wa’ar uttered the words in their language meaning, “Help this child.” He collapsed. 


	4. The Village

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The village takes Wa’ar in. They heal him and teach him their ways. He marries and eventually leaves.

Wa’ar awoke to being carried, wrapped up and loosely tied onto branches. He heard them singing and worried for his embryos. He looked thru the leaves over him, to the blue sky and slept. He awoke again, this time in one of the tents, with women tending to his sunburns and feet. Gently they washed mud off his body. The drooling plant goo they used on him took away the burning pain.

When they saw his eyes open, they smiled and gave him water to drink. Wa’ar was hungry. He couldn’t remember the last time he placed food in his mouth. Sadly he remembered it was when he’d eaten with Jack. The women saw the sadness on his face. They sang softly to him. And gave him a watery broth to drink, then something creamy, and then a piece of meat. His mouth watered at the meat. They saw his smile was real.

Wa’ar learned the tribes language. They called him Warren. His dismay that they had no writing or electronics led him to listen to the people of this planet. He determined there was no communication beyond verbal speech.

The men taught him to hunt and attempted to teach him to fish. Brooks and streams he eyed uneasily for such a long time, the rest of the men usually carried him across, to much teasing. The men had a private name for him that they used on hunts, meaning ‘Great Land Man’. When he chose not to leave camp, the men learned from experience, they would return empty handed, if not hurt. The condor seemed to be the largest bird and the elephant the largest land animal. They both seemed small to him. He relaxed. Yet he never overcame his fear of the water.

Warren got the idea they saved him, to be Sarah’s husband. Why he never learned. Years past without them having any children. Until one day a child pulled out the case of embryos and opened it. Warren did a massive telepathic shock on the entire tribe. Three children completely forgot ever seeing the case. The forth, the one who opened the case, stayed clear of Warren from then on, without knowing why. Seeing the embryo’s gave Warren the idea to plant one in his wife. Sarah had no telepathic ability. Yet, he had to implant them into somebody. She screamed and shrieked with laughter at the birth of her baby girl. Alarmed Warren went to her and was stopped by the men. They smiled saying, “It’s when they moan and sing sad songs that you must help your wife. This is a good day.”

Later the eldest woman came to Warren by the night fire, “Sit with me.” They went to her tent and shared tea. “Your child is good. Your wife is good.”

“Thank you, Elder.”

“Your wife is very happy.”

“Good.” She eyed him. He continued, “I am happy she is happy.” She nodded.

“When you came to us. You looked like a corpse. You were thin. Your skin was so white. We saw your veins and insides,” she waved a hand over his torso. “Everywhere. As if your skin was a thin layer of an onion that we saw inside you. Some thought you a ghost, a phantasm. Not real. We took care of you, even when you lost all your teeth like an old man. We fed you healthy food, and slowly your teeth regrew and your skin became solid white.” She smiled, “You are still thin.” She waited a while. Warren saw that she was composing her thoughts. He didn’t listen in, that would be rude. “The baby looks like you and she looks like her mother. You both have dark hair and dark eyes. As does the baby. Her skin is neither like yours or your wife’s. She is quite beautiful.”

“Thank you. May I see her now?” She bowed in reply.

Warren went to his wife and knelt beside her. He smiled and kissed her. He hugged her to hide his embarrassment since he was not the father and she was not the mother. He took the child in his arms. “Thank you for giving birth to this beautiful child.” He kissed the baby and kissed his wife again. He had no idea why her skin was colored the way it was, except he once saw a man with skin that same shade of dark red long ago in his parent’s building.

”Her name is Beautiful Union.” 

“Beautiful Union.” Warren took the child and showed her to everyone. Telling each of them Beautiful Union’s name.

Every morning Warren said, “Hello,” telepathically to his daughter. She never responded. Years later he thought it might be that the child had to go through puberty. She knew he was her father. But, he wasn’t, not really. So, when? He had a duty to the embryos and planned to leave. Warren abruptly changed his mind when Sarah died with their second child. He stayed to raise Beautiful until she was five. Then decided to wait until she reached puberty. If she does or doesn’t then I’ll leave.

When Beautiful reached puberty, she had no telepathic ability and Warren had forgotten his plan. Then they were having a marriage ceremony for Beautiful. Warren remembered he should leave. He decided to wait until she had a child. She did not. Every year he changed his mind on what he was going to do. 

He implanted Beautiful with a second of his embryos and she’d given birth to a baby boy. Warren wanted the boy to be named Warlin, after his grandfather. Beautiful agreed. But everyone called him Hunter. Hunter had the tiniest telepathic ability that extended out an arms length and radiated off him like a cloud. Warren stayed. Throughout the years the two of them seemed to be on the same ‘wavelength’ at times. When the boy was fearful or had some other intense emotion, his telepathy worked better. He was far better at receiving than sending. But, for the most part his ability was poor and very erratic. 

____________________________________________________________________

Warren hunted with the men. They killed an animal that was weaker than the rest. All the way back he thought about the animal. He thought about the men he had hunted with that day. They were all children and grandchildren of the people he had hunted with, when he first arrived. During the feast, he packed up his embryo case with his hunting gear. He returned to the feast and ate. He made a point of kissing everyone goodbye. When they slept he left.

Warren chose a path that took him to the deepest river. Believing the men would not consider him capable of overcoming his fear. He tied everything, including himself to two logs. Petrified with fear, he floated downstream. The sun rose with him still floating downstream. The landscape around him was changing. The mountains became big rounded hills. The trees were shaped different and had different leaves. Warren didn’t care he wanted off the water. He had no way to maneuver his ‘craft’ to the edge. On and on he drifted, too afraid to leave his body and do a mind trip, until he felt quite lost. 

The river branched and branched again. Other rivers joined it. And the ground became flat with no mountains to be seen in any direction. The little raft jammed into the weeds and rushes growing on the side of the river. Warren worked himself out of his ties and taking his pack and embryos, he sloshed through the water and over the soggy ground until he reached a dry path. And kept walking.


	5. Warren and the Crocodile.

Impulsively Wa’ar reached down, sliding his hand down her chin, her neck, and under all her clothes, his fingers lightly tracing her shape. Juniper lifted her chin, her head rested on the sofa’s back, to look up at him. Relaxed, ignoring the world, they gazed at each other until she said, “Wa’ar.” Just that easily, they passed over from being classmates, and friends, to being lovers. He pressed his hand against her, feeling her, “Your skin is so soft.” She moaned and gave him an open mouth smile. He bent down and kissed her forehead, her cheek and her mouth. Juniper kissed him back.

They loved each other in the living room, hot and fast. Again in the bedroom, slower and with lots of kisses.In the warm rain of the shower, Juniper screamed with laughter. Damp from the bathroom, Wa’ar sat on the side of the bed toweling his hair, eyeing her, full of loving her and wanting to be with her, always. “Ju-nu. Ju-nip. J-Girl. My girl, I love you.” At his words they both froze. They both knew he meant the words, and the implications behind them. He wanted them to be shipmates on the flight to another planet.

Juniper dropped her towel, and distracted Wa’ar from her thoughts, looking him in the eyes. He looked back, then his gaze drifted down over her breasts, down to her tattoo. He leaned forward, hands on her hips, he drew her closer, leaned over and kissed the writing.

Juniper ran her hands over his head, “Why the hair?”

“I shaved it off because,” he paused, sat erect and pulled her closer, until she straddled him, left knee bent and her right leg around him. “I am serious about being an astronaut.” He touched her belly.

“That’s years away.” His fingertips slid around her torso, he thought her voice sounded strained. Her hands went up his arms to his shoulders. They hugged. They grinned at each other and laughed, knowing they had moved into the pose of a painting. Juniper said the title, her hands caressed his head, “Lovers in Synergy”. One of them was also bald. Juniper laughed wondering if it was possible to be in that synergistic state with Wa’ar. Maybe. She put her thumb in his mouth. Wa’ar was the best telepath, unfortunately. She was strong, maybe second, only to him. But synergy. That perfect communication, happened so rarely.

“Oh no! Do you think we can do it?” He asked softly, in mock horror. They both gave soft little laughs and kissed.

She whispered in his ear, “I’m game if you are.”

Wa’ar’s fingers ran down and up the curve from her butt, following the sensuous curve up her back, up to her shoulders and back to her waist, thinking.With her neck bent, her head along side his, pressed up against him, she felt wonderful to him. He should have done this with her long ago. He ran his hands up her back anddown again. Wa’ar sat in a mirror position to hers. His lips grazed her neck and suddenly he was feeling his own back. He was sitting on himself.

He was in her. She was in him.

He opened his eyes and saw nothing. Juniper seeing the view out Wa’ar’s eyes, opened her own.Wa’ar now saw her arm on his back and the bedroom. Time seemed different as they looked and experienced being in another person. We’re in sync. They both thought at the same time; “This seems easy.” Then; “Why is it easy? Why didn’t they try this long ago? We did. When we were five or six, and it didn’t work.”

They each returned back into their own bodies. There was a moment as they realized what they had done and wanted to tell everyone. They gazed into each other’s eyes, she gave a deep throated laugh. His smile matched hers. There was nothing to say.

Wa’ar never felt so close to anyone before, ever. Juniper’s lips felt the skin of his shoulder, she nipped him, smelling his dampness. They both settled and it happened again.His consciousness into her body and her’s into his. Back and forth they moved into each other’s body. Always in perfect time with the other. They flipped faster. What took five minutes between the first exchange, became seconds. And then, what they had only read about, heard about, what all the best stories had, and what very few achieved, happened. Wa’ar and Juniper were each in both bodies, at the same time. Synergy.

Wa’ar saw both sides of the room at the same time, and knew Juniper was doing the same, completely in her own body and completely in his. He knew her. She knew him. Wa’ar found it mesmerizing and wonderful doing this, with Juniper. He had certainly never done this with anyone. And he knew, he knew that Juniper had never before reached perfect synergy with anyone before this moment. It was a perfect moment, a moment of perfect understanding.

Juniper always took particular care with her hair each morning. Now he knew why and loved her for her reasons. Wa’ar knew her passcode, a black and white cow surrounded by green grass, and found it amusing. He saw the picture clearly in all it’s minute details. He wondered what Juniper saw in him. Instantly he knew her thoughts, “Wa’ar is the greatest telepath in the whole world.” She kept repeating it over and over. Air blew across his cheek. She believed it as a statement of fact. She was not delighted, or happy, or bragging, at the thought. Wa’ar simply was.

Her alarm chirped, then again. They broke apart, and settled back into themselves. “That’s my backup alarm. I have to go.” She said as she pealed them apart.The dampness and hugging each other tightly, had ‘glued’ their skin together.

**********

Warren awoke in his hammock, high up in the branches of a tree. A bird ruffling it’s wings was eyeing him, causing puffs of air to waft over his face, breaking him free from his dream. A big faced bird, an Owl.

Warren opened the embryo’s case and talked to them. “Hi, everyone. Is everyone in the group well? I am in a tree with a bird. An Owl. If I sent it an image of myself eating a bird, it would be gone.” He grinned without showing the bird his teeth, remembering the first time he’d done that to a bird, which had fallen off the branch backwards, in it’s hurry to be away. “See you tomorrow.” He shut the case, and began taking down the hammock. The owl watched, unafraid.

He thought of his bird, when he’d been a child. He’d sent an image to her of them hunting together. Until she died, she never left him. All through classes, she calmly slept on his shoulder. During swim classes she flew up into the rafters to wait. Warren liked swimming. Safe in an indoor pool, he practiced and pushed himself to be the fastest swimmer his body was capable of being. He never wanted to be in an accident or something happening to him, that would place him out in the wild and in the water. He never wanted to die like that.

Warren reached the ground. He had also not eaten birds of any kind throughout her lifetime. He looked up at the owl. He was a beauty, a predator, and would have made a good companion.

Warren continued his trip. He couldn’t have a bird or any other animal. Not right now. He had a job, find telepathic females to give birth to these embryos. A bird on his shoulder was a great conversation starter. But then, what? Hello, there. Let me kiss you, with my bird watching. A bird that is strangely aware. No.

Warren followed the river until he concluded that the path was an animal trail, and no longer used by people. He stopped. He was going to have to do a mind trip to find his bearings. Why didn’t he do it back in the tree? Where was there a place for him to sit and take a trip? Back in his wife’s ‘village’ people surrounded him, during his mind trips. But, here? Beside the river the flat fields were filled with great swaths of wild flowers in bloom. Overhead the whiteness of the clouds and the blueness of the sky, were a view he had enjoyed since his arrival. Why hadn’t he explored a complete plan, back when he lived in the village?

Today, now, he worried and believed he needed a safe place. Someplace where animals wouldn’t eat him, and people couldn’t kill him as he ‘slept’ like a dead man.

Warren continued walking. His thoughts drifted back to his time with Juniper and the state of synergy, they had reached. Thinking of the past was something he’d not done the whole time he lived in the village. Those people were strangely always in the present, and without any telecommunications whatsoever, no vehicles, no tools, beyond rocks and sticks, they survived with nothing. It was fun, comforting, learning to be totally self reliant. To make your own clothes, spears, collect your own food. Yes, it was relaxing, and calming. And the hunting! Hunting had a big learning curve. He loved being a part of a community.

After his wife passed away, their “daughter”, one of the embryos, never heard or talked using telepathy with him. That was worrisome. She married and had a son. He showed a little talent at telepathy and never seemed to recognize Warren’s thoughts. Warren started to feel like a fixture in the community. Unless he spoke to them, he was no longer a part of their conversations. He was no longer a part of the group.

As Warren had floated downstream away from the village, he’d listened in on the conversationsand thoughts about himself. The men gave a half-hearted look for him, with most of the younger men relieved he was gone. Three intended to be the leader someday. Those three did not miss him in the slightest.His ‘grandson’ on finding Warren’s necklace strung with the tooth from his first kill, started to wear it himself, and believed correctly that Warren left, because he wanted to leave.

***********

Warren stopped and ate, he pondered his and Juniper’s last night together. Who knows, what they might have done together if he’d not left. Reaching synergy with anyone was a dream come true. And the last supper with Jack. That had been a good meal. He knew that. But then they drugged him and he kept having a hard time remembering what exactly they had said to each other. He knew Jack had said very approving things about him. Even to the point of expressing affection for him? Yes. I think he did.

Warren collected his things and continued walking and thinking. But! Then during the trip, when I spoke with Jack, what he said was not right. It was more of a ‘wall’ of conversation. Jack never asked him anything. He didn’t ask where he was. Why? Why did Jack keep him out of this thoughts?

Then it hit him. Both of them, Juniper and Jack, both were keeping him from listening in on their thoughts. Shock caused Warren to stop walking. Because they knew. They knew he was leaving. They set it up. Or knew who did. Juniper spent one night with him and Jack the next, and then he was gone. Why did they do it? Why? He kept asking himself. He dropped his things and paced around, stomping the ground. That’s why she was relaxed enough to get into a synergy state with him, she knew he was leaving! He stomped some more. The trip! Somebody drugged me! And they set the computer to keep waking me up! That’s not supposed to happen. They put you under and you wake up when you reach your new planet. Why did they program in that he was to wake up, every forty years? And was it forty years each time? We’re they trying to drive me insane? He stopped, staring and clenched his fists. Yes. They wanted to drive him insane. Maybe they even hoped that by waking him up continuously he would age and die before he reached his final destination. And then the computer being so, so, basic info only. And then the sorry state of the TTHU, empty of all supplies. Even food!

Loosing his balance, Warren couched down rigid with shock and anger. The TTHU being burned up, with just enough time for him to get away. If they could have had it burn up on landing or even crash, they probably would have! He blinked away the tears.

“Thank you Lord for safety protocols. I haven’t talked to you in a long time. Those people didn’t know who you are. I feel so alone. I know I’m not. And! If I hadn’t said something about the time, would the computer even have told me it was about to be blown up! And burnt!”

He laid down, breathing hard. “Do they even know what planet I landed on?” He quivered. “How far away from home am I? Everyone there is dead. DEAD!” Angry again, he jumped up, hoisted his things and began running.

*****************

Lulled into a peaceful state at the loping half run, his thoughts blank, he calmed down. Warren forgot to scan for predators.

He was running over a sandy area that extended up from the river when a crocodile heaved up out of the water, engulfing Warren in it’s mouth. He had never seen such a large creature and he was in it’s mouth! The mouth was at least two meters long, lined with predator teeth. Surprised and shocked at such a strange animal, he seized it’s thoughts and did something every child is taught to never do, use telepathy to kill. He sent out a massive pulse and it died, before it bit him in half. The animal fell, landing crookedly on it’s side.Warren, trying not to smell the animal, pushed and pulled himself out from inside the jaws of the heavy animal. He flinched at seeing a second crocodile. Thankfully, also dead. He looked around. His muscles twitching, ready to jump away. He’d killed the whole ‘bask’ of crocodiles. They floated in the water in a jumble. Surrounded by dead fish. And a large dead turtle. A thudding plop sound, with the air moving, happened behind him. He jumped straight up, turning and moving away at the same time. It was a dead bird. A big dead vulture type bird.

Nothing moved. Warren breathed looking at the dead. He calmed down. What had he done? Absently he rubbed his chest. It hurt. He felt ashamed when he saw the little dead songbirds. Except for him, everything was dead. A light rain of dead bugs came down from above.

What had he done? How far out did the carnage extend? If the kill zone encompassed the water in the river, than how far down into the earth did it extend?

He opened the case, full of anxiety, the embryos were alive! They were not dead! How are they not dead? Warren collapsed crying in shame, and relief. The embryos waited expectantly. “Is everyone in the group alive?” If embryos could smile, they’d be smiling. He carefully shut the case, curled up in a ball and slept.

The sun had set and the moon was rising. But it was waxing and just too thin to give him enough light. His joints were sore from clenching in one position for such a long time. He found his fire starter and lit a large fire made of out of the flower bushes. He was surrounded by fleeing animals. He worried that they might have killed him. Taking a burning branch he lit more of the flowers on fire. Thinking he might have to escape the flames by jumping in the river, kept him from burning more of the plants.

The vultures leaped away from him and his burning flames, but immediately returned to the carcasses and ate. He cut off a piece of leg for himself and cooked it over the fire. And ate. His chest hurt.

At some point Warren fell asleep and awoke in the early morning light. He looked around at all the animal tracks. A few had come near him. They were all eating Crocodile for dinner last night. The vultures we’re still at it. A dog? Or a coyote? Something was trying to eat and not be seen by him. He built up the fire. He checked the embryos. Who were worried for him. Amazing. They were worried for him. He reassured them. He had to find them hosts. He ate. His chest itched. Removing his clothing revealed the punctures from the crocodile’s teeth. They oozed blood.

Warren collected water and set it to boil. He added plants from his bag. When it cooled he added some more plants and rubbed the water into his wounds. Those that still bled he daubed with honey.

Still nude, and looking over the carcasses, he deciding what to take. From the bird he collected the largest of it’s feathers. Carefully he stacked and nested them and tucked them between the metal of his case and the pelt he’d covered it with, since his wife didn’t like the look of the metal.

From the Crocodile that tried to eat him, a rock was bashed against his jaws, releasing his teeth and a sharp thin rock cut off another hunk of meat.The turtle shell was nice. He eyed it for a minute.How could he carry such a heavy shell? Also, he would spend too much time getting it.

Warren taking his bag, spear, and weighted down with his loot, walked straight into the fields and away from the river. He kept looking back. He was trying to find out just how far out his massacre extended. A long distance away, the bumpy ground, gradually became dirt without flowers. But, there were none of those beast around. The beasts he did see, gave him a glance. They were headed to the feast at the river.

He stopped when he found a tree tall enough to sleep in, set up his hammock as high up as he could go. He swung gently calming himself, and did a mind trip. He saw the river crowded with meat eaters, all eating. The other side of the river had more dead birds and something that was being eaten. He followed the meandering water through hills before reaching a village and a large body of water. He would have to go up higher to see how large. He debated. He went up higher, and higher. There was an ocean between the village and the next land mass. He lowered down to the village. Not finding any telepaths, he listened. The volume of noise coming from all the people talking, made it hard to pick out the telepaths. Especially if they are listening and not sending. It’s not like they are thinking, “I am a telepath. Come find me Warren.” He grinned and sent out a general message, “I am here. I am looking for you.” He waited. He slept for the night and awoke to the birds singing. As he ate he felt a telepath much farther to the north. They were not very good, or maybe a child.

Warren had wanted to followed the river to the end, to the village at it’s mouth, because it seemed safer. From where he was now, if he headed north, overland he would reach a telepath. He decided to take the longer route.

He did his best to not be noticed by the people of the town. His white skin and his clothes being of the style of the mountain country made him stand out. But it was dusk. And most were inside their huts. He waited in the shadows for everyone to be asleep.

Warren looked down at the sleeping telepath, sleeping next to her husband and three children. He went out and fixed up the device with the embryo he named after his wife. Creeping inside he impregnated the woman and left.

He felt relief and began looking for another telepath. Thinking and hoping that this woman would not die in childbirth as his wife had.

******************************

Warren traveled for the rest of the summer visiting many women, always in a different location, a different village, dispersing his embryos. The embryos he’d named Jack and Jerry, wanted to be together. Women have twins sometimes, so why not? He’d wait until he found the perfect situation for them.

The delta area was quite vast. Boats moved up and down the shorelines. Warren’s feet wished he was sailing instead of walking. Warren wished he didn’t have to keep crossing the many rivers and streams. Sitting on the bank watching the boats go by, Warren studied the boatmen. They lived on their boats. They transported different types of cargo, mostly things made, or plants grown by other people. He was surprised at one boat that carried slaves. It felt wrong to him. He said a quick prayer to the Lord, for them.

He finally found a man he liked. Even disposition, open in his thoughts, not too successful. He picked up his things and ran for the next place where boats landed, his feet ached at every step.

The two people trading with him were taking things off his boat and preparing to leave. Warren stopped. The boatmen did a double take and looked back at him. “I want to go with you.”

He shook his head, “I don’t take passengers.” They both waited. “I can’t take passengers.” He scratched his head and looked down. “Others. They ferry passengers. I cannot.”

Warren spoke pacing out his words, “I want, to go, with, you.”


	6. Warren and Sabra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warren and Saba travel together. Warren distributes embryos.

The boatmen frowned and shook his head, “I prefer women.” 

Warren stepped closer, away from those listening in, “I left my village after my wife died in childbirth.” He stepped closer. “After I buried my dead child.” Which was true enough. It was simply many years ago. 

“Where is your village?” He asked studying Warren’s strange color and clothing. 

“In the mountains.” 

The boatman knew of only one place with mountains, which he stayed clear of, because they killed people. “Which mountains?” Warren pointed in a direction he did not expect.

“They are a very long trip to reach them.” They both paused. The boatmen thinking whether Warren’s words were true, do people with white skin live in that direction? Warren paused thinking of what to say or do, to help him decide in his favor. “My wife taught me to love this planet, this place. Did you see the sunrise this morning? It was beautiful.” 

“Yes.” The clouds had broken the sunlight up into many golden rays. And he thought people who lived on shore never noticed anything pertaining to the weather. He looked towards the boat, “Come.” Warren debated at the water’s edge, looking and looking, he passed his things over and jumped towards the craft and crawled up over the edge.

The boatman smiled. Warren had never been on a boat, that was for sure. “Afraid of the water?”

Warren shrugged his shoulders with a smile back, “I am Warren.”

“Hello, Warren. Welcome to my humble dwelling on the sea. My name is Sabra.” 

Of course, Sabra, because he is a patient man. Sabra showed him where and how to stow his things.

Two days later Sabra explained, “I need to bathe. We are sailing too fast for me to keep up with the boat. So, I will take off my clothes. I will jump over the side and hold onto this rope.” It had a loop at each end. He wrapped one end around the mast and fed the far end thru the loop. And pulled and pulled it thru, and pulled it tight. He pointed to the stick he always held, “You hold on to this. It’s called the tiller, it keeps the rudder straight.”

Warren nodded, “Go. Bathe.”

Sabra slipped off his clothes, slipped the large loop over his head and shoulders, went over the side and bathed, climbed back in and rinsed with fresh water. “Your turn.”

“No. No thank you.”

“You must.”

“No.”

“I know you are afraid of the water. You don’t know how to swim.”

“I am afraid of what’s in the water. I do know how to swim.”

“You are afraid of the water AND you know how to swim! Warren you are so strange. The strangest person I ever met. White skin. Well. On my ship, we bath every few days. Or we get off at the next stop.”

Warren was unhappy. He bathed. Quickly.

Sabra looked distraught as Warren climbed into the boat, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. It never occurred to me.” He glanced away and again at Warren’s chest and wounds. “You seem so healthy.”

_________________________________________

Their trip together was productive for Sabra and Warren.

Asking for time ashore at certain stops along the way was granted, once Sabra learned that Warren was wise about which stops to skip and which not to miss. When Warren said that a place was not so good, they made little money. When he said it was a bad place they were cheated or worse, attacked, and when he said he ‘loved’ a place, they made good money and often stayed a few days. 

Warren ‘distributed’ over a dozen embryos, by the time he learned to ‘man the helm’, hoist the sail, and when to drop down out of the way of the sail as it was moved from one side to the other of the little craft. Laying on his back staring up at the stars became his time to do short ‘mind trips’.

Sabra thought Warrens habit of checking his ‘things’ each morning a little strange at first. When he heard him talking to his Lord, he thought it a religious moment and gave it no thought after that.

___________________________________

They did good business in India and had passed into an ocean filled with islands. At the Island of Japan, Warren finished ‘depositing’ more of his embryos. Only his favorites remained and he felt uneasy. Sabra noticed Warren kept looking around. He tried to look calm as he asked, “What worries you?” While paying close attention to what and how Warren replied.

Warren didn’t know. Was he anxious to be down to the last dozen embryos? Were they to be attacked? Finally, he said, “Something is wrong. We should leave this place.” Sabra tightened up the sail, and began tacking to make the best time, as they headed back home. Sabra was glad to be gone of Japan, his coloring did not fit in. Whereas they seemed to like Warren a little too much. So much so, Sabra became afraid his friend might leave him.

The rest of the day, Sabra sailed as if he was in a race. And Warren did all those things to aid Sabra in keeping them moving. He made ‘easy soup’ for Sabra to drink. He took over the rudder and sail for Sabra to take breaks. Encouraging him to sleep, so that he might sail in the day and Sabra through the night.

They went two days with determination, and will power to sail the little craft at it’s fastest. Clouds formed overhead. Big, black clouds. Far from land, over the sea they sailed, until Sabra called out, “We have to cover.” He motioned to Warren to take the rudder. Warren did. Sabra lowered the sail, the wind was whipping it around. There were many tense moments as Sabra fastened the sail at the prow of the ship and down along the edge. Warren watched Sabra. The sides of the sail were wider than the width of the boat, and had to curl around the mast and up and over the boom. Folding the bottom edge of the sail, the mast end of it he fastened up next to Warren. “Lay down. Don’t let go.” Warren knew he meant the rudder and waited under the sail as Sabra worked. Over and over the wind took it out of his hands. Warren wanted to help.

Sabra had the far end of the sail folded under itself. And back up the far side of the ship. At the mast he made the sail fast and came back to Warren, he spoke while reaching under the seat Warren had been using.He was practically laying on Warren. Their faces were close. “There are a few more things to do, but. We will be okay. We will float. As long as we don’t flip. Or hit land.”

Warren grinned back in the dim light, “Or hit another ship.”

Sabra grinned back, “Impossible.” He threaded a large bone, sewing needle with corse thread. Moving away he began sewing the sail to it’s self to keep out the water.

________________________________________

The rain began. Three days of non-stop rain. At times Warren thought there was as much water above them as below. Sabra slept and Warren checked on the embryos, he tried to explain water to them. “I am well, see you tomorrow.” He closed the case, checked Sabra again and did a Mind Trip. Water and rain. He went up a long way, until he was up above the clouds. The sky was blue and the sun was shining. He looked for the width of the storm. They were past most of it. He looked again, the land seemed to be different. We’ve been blown to the south. Thinking the boat probably had moved, he went straight down. The little boat was much farther away from him than he thought it should be. He returned to his body. Checked Sabra again and made food for them.

Sabra woke snuggled up with Warren. Both their blankets were over both of them. The rain and wind rocked them. Warren looked back at him, calmly. “We will survive this storm.” Sabra wanted to leave, “I told you before. When we met. I don’t.” 

“Sush. It’s cold.” Warren changed his smile, he was now laughing at Sabra. “What do you think I do when I go ashore?”

“I don’t know.”

“I find a woman.” 

“Every time?”

“Yes.” Now Warren looked confused. “What? Do you think I am being false with you?”

“Every time?”

“Yes.” Warren laughed. Well, he found homes for his embryos. Sabra didn’t need to know that part.

They ate what Warren had made. “I don’t think we have a problem with fresh water.” Sabra laughed. They were giddy from the endless nothing to do, but wait. 

“Warren. How did you get the scars?”

“A crocodile.” 

“A crocodile bit you in the chest and you survived!?” 

With a big smile, Warren said, “Yes.” He felt a little weird about smiling and dismissed his worry.

“I don’t believe it.” Sabra was smiling. 

“Do you think I am being false with you?”

“Well.” His voice trailed off. 

Warren stretched. He moved to get up, “It’s so nice and warm in here.” He skootched around, took out his pack and moved back to Sabra. He tucked his feet under the covers, then covered his legs. He slipped out a stack of feathers, “These are the feathers from a bird” He paused, “That I killed.”

Sabra looked them over, Warren handed them to him. “They are soft. And so black. They’re huge.” 

“Yeah, it was a big bird.”

“What did it taste like?”

“I didn’t eat it.”

“You killed a bird and didn’t eat it?” Sabra looked disapproving and stared waiting for his explanation.

Warren fussed. “By the time I removed the feathers, it’s body had already been eaten. By other animals.” Sabra looked relieved. “That’s not what I wanted to show you.” From a pouch he removed a tooth, and placed it in Sabra’s hand. He took back the feathers, returned them to their slot in the case, and looked back to find Sabra was agog. Staring at him. “This part is up under the body. Under the gums of the jaw. That part makes it look bigger than it is.” He felt around, and took out a larger tooth. “See. This one is even bigger.”

“How did you find these?”

“Find? He tried to kill me. I killed him. Then I used a rock to bash the teeth out of his head.” Warren paused. The rain came down to a drumming noise. The boat rocked. “Him I ate.”

“You were in the water when this happened?”

“I was right next to a river. He came out and grabbed me. And I killed him. And I ate him. And I pulled and banged the teeth out of his head.” Warren looked at Sabra, “Why do you look at me like that?”

Sabra was changing his opinion of Warren. “Warren. When I first met you, you were this thin man. With white skin. Afraid of the water. Who wanted to sail with me. And knew nothing of boats, or the movements of the water’s. You couldn’t tie a knot, to save your life. And, I swear. Every time you eat something, it is like it is the first time you’ve ever eaten it. You smell it. You watch me eat it. At first I thought you were watching me. Yeah, watching me eat. But, no. You didn’t know how to eat it, you were watching me to find out what to do. And now, you’re telling me you were bit by a crocodile, and killed it. Just like that. Not a little crocodile a big one. Oh. The other people with you they helped you kill it?”

Warren took back the teeth, replaced them in the pouch and laid down. “I was alone. I’m always alone.”

“You’re not alone. I’m right here with you.” Sabra had adopted a ‘you silly’ lilting voice. It cut the tension a little. Warren snuggled under the covers. Sabra got still whenever Warren’s skin touched his own.

Warren matched Sabra’s teasing tone, “Besides this storm. Being tossed around like, like we are in the mouth of a giant dog. Tossed around like a dog’s bone.” Sabra laughed. “And impossible to warm up with a hot drink, because no fire!” Waves lurched the little craft. Then the rain came down hard enough, with enough noise, Warren paused.

Sabra continued when the noise let up, “Freezing and pelted with rain, not to mention the possibility of being washed away, every time we have to take a piss. Your idea to lash ourselves to the mast was a good one.”

“Thanks. It is a bit uncomfortable laying down with this rope around my waist. It’s easier to lay on your side. But tiring never laying on your back.”

“When this is over we are going to be black and blue with bruises. As you say there is only the two of us. I don’t want you to leave me, just because of a storm.”

“I don’t want you to leave me, either.”

They rocked in the curls of the waves. They ate dried meat. Holding it in their mouths to warm it and to chew it into a soft mush, then ate it. They were feeling sick and bored. Sabra sang a song. The imagery of the song made no sense to Warren, but he liked the singing. He snuggled closer. When Sabra again relaxed he asked, “Who took you against your will?”

Maybe Sabra shuddered, it was hard to tell in the violent storm. “A man. I don’t know his name.”

“I will never do that. Not if we live in this boat, lost at sea for the rest of our lives. Just the two of us, forever. Never. You’re not going to take me against my will, are you?”

Sabra scoffed. They rocked in the storm for a while. Each in their own memories. “Besides I am looking for someone. Someone.”

Someone I can sync with. Warren remembered that perfect peace he’d had with Juniper. That was what he wanted. Why did they send him away? And they did. They did send him away. Why? Everything he’d been through, the never ending trip here, that killer lake, and that first walk to the humans, his first embryo being born and not ever thinking to him telepathically, the crocodile and this horrible storm. He bowed his head and the tears came. For the first time, Sabra hugged Warren back. “I wish I was back with her. But. She’s gone. Dead and gone.” Warren cried himself to sleep.

When Warren awoke, they were still in darkness. The rain continued, but the rage of the storm was over. Sabra asked him, “Are you well?” 

“Yes.”

“This always happens when, people don’t see the sun for a while. We get very sad. We don’t know why. This is why we pray to him.” 

“The sun.” 

“Yes.”

“Thank you for taking care of me, Sabra.” 

“Thank you for taking care of me, Warren.”

**Author's Note:**

> Wa’ar came from a planet 🌏 (not Earth) where all adults are about the same height, with black hair. Skin color is a trait that is not inherited. They are described as reds, yellows, whites, blacks and rarely, bluish. Even more rare is purple and green.
> 
> At a birth, parents enjoy the surprise of their child’s coloring.
> 
> Why do the women strip their hair of color and dye it? It’s what they do.
> 
> Why does each family have a unique pattern sewn on their skirts and dresses? It’s what they do.
> 
> Why are they so afraid of the birds and animals? They are dinosaurs.


End file.
